Unlock the Truth (6 page)

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes. Yes of course,” she said, and waved a hand around. “I just forgot…you know…how lovely stables are.”

He laughed again, the sound soft and buttery smooth and it touched something deep within her. Something she’d denied herself for a long time. Wrong timing. She’d lost a sister. He’d lost an old love.

“Any time you need another job, you can help clean out the stalls,” he said, and elbowed her gently as he walked past. He rubbed each horse’s nose and spoke their name.

“This is my man, José,” he said, and stopped at the last stall, his voice filled with pride. “He loves apples.”

Dena rubbed the horse’s soft velvet nose. She held out a piece of apple. “You’re a beautiful boy, so handsome.”

“He’s a great horse, a one-man horse, aren’t you boy? Criollos are great on rough terrain, narrow trails,” he said, patted the horse’s neck, and then smiled. “We’d better go.”

Dena followed him to the tack room. José whinnied and gave a toss of his head.

“Later, boy, we’ll ride later. He likes you,” Zeke said. “We don’t get many women in here.” He held his lips pressed tight. Then he hoisted up a saddle along with bridle, blanket and pad, and strode to the alley between the stalls. “I’ll put you on Nancy. She’s the smoky color, in the second stall.”

“Can I help?”

“Nope, I got it.” He went into Nancy’s stall with a currycomb and skimmed it over her body. “Okay, girl,” he said. “Are you ready for some fun?”

Mesmerized by Zeke’s gentleness, Dena was about to answer and felt her face heat up when she realized he spoke to the horse. In the next stall a horse acted up. She followed and watched as he touched the horse right between the eyes and whispered, and the horse calmed.

“This is Susie Q,” he said. “Susie sold her to me a few years ago. She came back home last year—” He pressed his lips tight again for a second, and then he swallowed hard. “She’d changed. She’d get drunk and visit the stables at midnight. I had to get a restraining order.”

“I’m sorry.” Her heart went out to him. He gave a curt nod and his mouth twisted into a tight grimace. He led Nancy outside, placed a box step for her to climb up then mounted his horse. She noticed the rifle he placed across his thighs and shivered. After Stanton’s arrival, she’d almost forgotten she’d been shot at. Did Zeke expect more trouble, or did he always carry a rifle? He eased alongside her as they rode, and it seemed to Dena the further they were from the house, the calmer she felt.

“Your place is gorgeous from up here.” A spot of blue shimmered in the distance. “Is that Lake Cahuilla? I saw a sign when I drove in yesterday.”

“Nope, that’s Lake Three C’s, man made. Cahuilla is natural and larger, a few miles east, and named after the American Indian tribe who first lived here. It’s state land.”

“Oh.” She looked back to him. “Can you swim in your lake?”

“The chemicals might turn your skin green.” He laughed. “Seriously, I wouldn’t. It has a well, and we recycle the water for irrigation.”

“That’s a good idea.” Rows of citrus trees extended until they merged into one huge green expanse. She sniffed the air. “I don’t really smell a citrus smell.”

“It’s strongest when the trees are in blossom. We’re getting close to harvest time.”

“Oh, it’s so quiet I swear I can hear the insects conversing—”

“Yeah. There’s a stillness that’s hard to explain.”

She frowned. “Those mountains are sheer rock, absolutely no vegetation. Is it volcanic rock?”

“Much of the area was once under water. The lake dried up in the 1600s. I’ll show you the water level, there’s a mark on the rocks at the base of the mountains not far from home.”

Thoughts of a home filled her. She hadn’t had one of her own as an adult. There’d been an apartment shared with an ex-husband, and now a small condominium that she barely lived in because work and night classes had become her priority.

Dena smiled and they both lapsed into silence as they rode side by side.

“We’re close to my property border,” Zeke said a few minutes later. “Want to keep going?”

“Yes.” She turned away from the concern in his eyes. She hated lying to him. Would he continue on if she told the truth? She trusted him, felt comfortable with him.

But in light of the news he’d just received, and the fact that they were so close to the site, it would be best to wait with explanations.

Her chest tightened. Nancy’s right ear twitched and muscles rippled along the horse’s sides.

Did Nancy react to something else out there, something hidden, or did she pick up on her anxiety?

Dena stroked Nancy’s neck to calm them both.

Chapter Four

Five minutes later, Zeke and Dena reined in the horses on a small rise. Zeke looked down at the main road through the scrubby bushes then to the citrus groves, and then all the way back to the hacienda. It was damn amazing land. As a teenager he’d loved riding José along this ridge, but he’d hardly been out this way since he’d returned home. He cleared his throat and waved in the direction of the tall wire fence.

“Those are the tops of the girders, of the hotel.”

Dena nodded. “Do you know exactly where Carli…where her body—?”

“Near where the pool will go in, construction’s been held up for months, they only resumed two weeks ago.”

Below them, a car barreled along his private drive and he turned to check it out. He couldn’t hear the boom of the bass on the radio, but knew it would be thumping. A mile or so behind the Honda, a telephone repair truck kicked up some dust.

“Who is that?” Dena asked.

“Irma’s son, Manny.” Zeke shook his head and smiled. Manny had a back entrance and a shady tree where he parked his car. His garage, he called it. “Damn. I forgot the phone company hadn’t finished their work.”

“Do you need to go back?” Dena asked.

“No, I guess not. Irma or Manny will take care of it. Bob Carmine knows what he’s doing. He had to return to the office for some supplies.”

Dena’s expression turned serious and she seemed to lose color. She sat astride the horse, her back ramrod straight.

“Do you know this Bob Carmine very well?”

“He’s a young guy, a friend of Manny’s—”

“Does he ever call himself Bobby?”

Her gaze flitted from the road to him, and then back down to the truck again. Zeke could sense an element of panic. Nancy gave a snort and moved a little. He reached over, stroked her neck. What had Dena all fired up over Bob?

“His little boy might go by Bobby.”

“He’s married?”

“Yes.” He narrowed his eyes. “What’s this about?”

Dena’s body relaxed. “I thought I recognized the name, that’s all. But the guy I know goes by Bobby.” She shrugged. “And he isn’t married.”

“Oh, okay.”

He didn’t believe her, although she gave him a smile. She intended to leave today. He had enough worries with his own investigations, and the last thing he needed was an amateur sleuth on his property. Still, he was alerted to her interest in Bob. The cops had never mentioned anything about anyone with that name.

Dena turned and looked around. “Is all of that your citrus farm?”

“No.” Zeke stared toward the rows of citrus trees beyond the hotel property line. “West Coast Citrus’s property butts up against the hotel land, over there, and then it runs behind the edge of those low lying mountains behind my property.”

“Do you get along well with West Coast?”

“We do okay.” Her questions had started to annoy him. Why did she ask him about his competitor? He needed to get this done and get back home. Maybe quiz Bob.

“I’m going over.”

“What?” Zeke frowned “There’ll be caution tapes everywhere.”

“I’ll be fine. I tried to get on the property last night.”

“Are you crazy?” The woman aged him by the second. “You could be in jail today.”

She huffed. “I know. But I thought it worth the risk.”

His mouth twitched. A determined woman. “So, what happened?”

“The coyotes came.”

He laughed, and she turned toward him, her face serious.

“It wasn’t funny,” she said. “And some furry animal scared me.”

“Sorry.” Zeke couldn’t stop the grin though. “It was most likely a feral cat. My mother used to feed them. She liked the black ones. And the coyotes would have been miles away.”

“I don’t think so—”

“There are fences everywhere,” he said, and swept one arm wide. “Besides, coyote voices carry in the still of the night.”

“Fine,” she said abruptly, and shifted in the saddle. “But I ran.”

“Smartest thing you’ve done since you got here,” he muttered, and stared at the no trespassing signs. “Maybe we should get permission. I know the developer.”

“And what if the answer is no?” Dena asked. “I was turned away when I tried before. Anyway, we’re here now. I’m going over. I’ll go alone if you don’t want to come.”

Zeke’s heart gave a jolt. He couldn’t let her go alone. He’d become protective of her, wanting to help, to make this as non-traumatic as possible.
Hell
. He didn’t even know her.

“Besides,” Dena said. “If I get caught you’re off the hook. I’ll say that you followed to prevent me from going in there.”

He blew out a gust of air. He’d become complacent. There was nothing he was aggressive about anymore. Not one damn thing. Until these murders were solved, he’d stay at Three C’s, he knew that. Then he’d be gone in a flash, back to the law practice, if they’d have him. Or maybe he’d start his own firm. He pressed his lips tight and climbed off the horse. He tied the reins to a tree, and then raised his hand to help Dena dismount.

The area had been combed by the Riverside Sheriff’s Department and he doubted she’d find anything. His attempts at investigation had been lame compared to Dena’s. His thoughts ran wild for a minute, trying to justify his actions. If they stayed on the top side, away from the recent findings, on the outside of the caution tapes, it’d be okay.

He found a gap in the fence, and then widened it and stared through. Carli’s grave had been dug deep in the sandy soil, and a couple of large rocks had been rolled on top. Stanton had told him the killer had wanted to protect the body from wild animals. To his mind that was one of the reasons it had to be a local because they understood the desert and its midnight marauders. He hadn’t told Dena about that. She paced up and down now and frowned, agitated he guessed by his slowness. He widened the gap even further.

“Think you can get through here?”

She hurried over, petite without the spike heels she’d worn yesterday, and leaned down. They were so close he could smell the sweetness of her skin.

“Perfect,” she said, and slid through. “What about you?”

He coughed. He’d been overcome with the desire to trace the sweep of her neck with his tongue, kiss her smooth skin. Good thing she intended leaving town. “I’ll manage. We’ll have to keep to the path,” he said, and looked up, but Dena was halfway down the slight rise.

Damn.
In the distance a cop car faced the main road and blocked the entrance into the area. Zeke knew criminals often returned to the scene of the crime. It wouldn’t look too good if he was found here. Sweat trickled down the nape of his neck. But he couldn’t desert her. He sucked in his gut and squeezed through the gap.

Wanting to give her some privacy, he pressed his back into the trunk of an old gnarled tree a short distance away and waited. She’d said her relationship with her mother wasn’t good. They had that in common, along with the death of loved ones. He should have tried harder, broken down the walls his mother had erected. He tried to shut out the memories, but they bit into him. Unlike him, Dena still had a chance to repair her relationship with her mother.

A piece of caution tape fluttered on the slight breeze like a windsock. Could that be where they’d uncovered Susie’s body? He picked his way through the rubble and sand, and halted at the tape, remembering with sadness some of his and Susie’s earlier fun-filled times. He prayed her death had been quick. Minutes later, he trudged back. Dena sat still on the same rock, a tiny presence set against the stark desert floor, odd in some ways, but kind of spiritual. He wondered if she’d sensed anything.

She stood. “We can go now,” she said, and brushed past him.

He followed her up to the fence, and once through it breathed a sigh of relief. Neither of them spoke. He untied the horses, gave Dena a boost, and tried not to think about her closeness, or how he liked the silky feel of her skin and her flowery scent.

They rode back in complete silence.

****

In the guest bedroom at the hacienda, Dena zipped up the skirt of her business suit and reached for her jacket. She didn’t really want to leave Three C’s Estates. She shrugged. She’d imagined what it might be like to live here this morning, when she and Zeke had gone out for the ride. The desert was beautiful in its own way.

She glanced in the floor length mirror, and satisfied with the result, picked up her purse.

Her admission that she liked the desert came as a total surprise. She’d often told Carli, “If I want to live in a sandy location, I’ll take mine with an ocean view.” She’d rarely visited.

Dena grimaced. There’d been no spiritual revelation at the hotel site. And no clues. Had this whole trip been for nothing? She’d been convinced that something of Carli’s spirit would be at the site. Silly, she supposed. A twinge of sadness washed through her. There hadn’t been a tingle of anything.

She put her purse on the end of the bed, and remembering her thoughts on Zeke’s neighbor, pulled out the paper file from the laptop case. Cyril Johnston owned West Coast Citrus and was Zeke’s only competitor in the Coachella Valley. She scanned through her notes, tapped the papers against her chin. Had he caused the trouble at Three C’s? She put the file back in the case, walked to Zeke’s office, and hesitated in the doorway.

A young man stood beside the desk, and from the uniform and the leather tool belt, she guessed he was Bob the phone man. Rocky sat in the chair that faced the desk. Zeke spoke into the phone. “Yes. I do recall the name. My mother spoke of you.” He looked up, smiled and indicated she should come in and be seated.